Weed of a Woman
by Everlude
Summary: Poets often compared girls to flowers... A flower would have wilted and died by now — calling her a weed was more accurate. That woman could grow anywhere. [Slice of Life]
1. Taro

This will be a slice of life story that shows how the Sunshine Islands change after Chelsea moves in. The POV will vary throughout the story, but it should mainly focus on Chelsea or the effects she's caused. I will always state whose POV it is at the beginning of the chapter, and while the POV will change from chapter to chapter it _will not_ change within the chapter.

Written because I wanted a story I could relate to better with an older main character, less high school style drama, and a more realistic feel.

Genres: Slice of life, friendship, family, romance, general

My one and only disclaimer: The ideas are mine, the characters are not — except for OCs, those are mine.

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**Weed of a Woman**

Poets often compared girls to flowers...

A flower would have wilted and died by now

— calling her a weed was more accurate.

That woman could grow anywhere.

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**Prologue**

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**WANTED**

**Sunshine Island**

NEED RANCHER OR FARMER.

Must be responsible, willing

to work hard, and restore old

rundown farm to its glory days.

Previous experience preferred,

but not required. On the job

training is available if needed.

Property includes: one farmhouse,

one barn, one chicken coop, one

stable. All buildings need renovation.

Large acreage located away from

The main town. Serious inquiries

only. No prank calls!

CONTACT TARO

XXX-XXX-XXXX

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**Chapter One**

_[Taro POV]_

_I'll never admit it, but… I'm getting too old for this._

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"For the last time, the property is not for sale to be developed!" Slamming the old black phone down on its receiver I let out a loud harumph. Darned cocky developers with their cockamamie ideas. An exclusive golf resort was not going to help the island out. Only a farmer or rancher could do that.

"If I were twenty years younger, no even ten…" I muttered on my way back to my comfy chair. It was one of those fancy recliner ones. Pulling the lever, I put my feet up before adjusting my blanket. Darn house must be getting drafty.

"No luck then?" Felicia asked, walking out of the kitchen. Her lips were drawn tight like they always were when she was stressed or worried. So much like her mother that way… I shook my head. "I see…" I watched my daughter turn to look out the window at the snow covered ground, her hands fisting her skirt. "Spring will be here soon."

A frown tugged at my own lips. I knew what she was getting at. If we couldn't find someone to take over the farm soon… "How are the crop buying prices holding?"

"There's been no change since the beginning of winter when we saw the fifteen cent hike, but I'm afraid we may not see a reduction with the coming of spring this year…"

I bit into my tongue, a habit I'd picked up in my earlier years and never seen fit to get rid of. This was serious. Things had been bad for awhile now, but the cost to import food goods to the island was negatively affecting the rest of the island's economy. To offset the cost of food everything else had gone up in price; driving away tourists and islanders alike.

I hated to admit it, but the island was slowly dying. How much longer before even the true stalwarts had to leave because no one else was around to support their business? The only viable solution was for the island to produce most of its own food, but there was no one to run the old farm.

"Ya sure Elliot doesn't want to give it a try?" Turning from the window, Felicia came to kneel at the side of my chair.

"You know that wouldn't work, Daddy. We've talked about it before. The pressure alone would drive him to his sickbed. Besides, Elliot has no interest in growing crops, and Natalie can't grow anything to save her life. You know that. You've seen it yourself."

I knew she was right. The apple had fallen far from the tree in my family. No one wanted to take up farming. Not my daughter, not my grandkids. I loved them all dearly, but sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if it might have been different.

"What about his girlfriend?"

"Julia? She's alright with animals, but doesn't know a thing about crops."

"She could learn."

"_Daddy._"

I let out a long sigh, but knew I was only beating a dead horse. If anyone on the island could or would take over the old farm they already would have done so. And the last few people who'd come to the island to try… well, none of them had lasted out a full season. Pansies, the lot of them.

"Young'uns these days ain't got no gumption in 'em!" My right knee was starting to ache. There'd be snow again tomorrow. "What I wouldn't give to be a younger man again. I'd march right up to that farm and have it in tiptop shape in no time!" And I would too, just like I did with the farm I used to own.

Felicia gave my arm a gentle squeeze. "I know you would, Daddy, but you can't. We just have to hold out hope that someone who can will answer the ad."

The phone rang then, breaking the silence that had settled over us.

"I'll get it," Felicia said, getting to her feet with ease I envied.

"Hello? ...Yes. Of course, one moment please." I looked around the back of my chair to see her holding her hand over the receiver. "It's for you, about the farm."

I let my chair down with a loud thunk and threw my blanket to the side. My joints protested the cold without it, but I made my way over to the phone fast enough and took it from her. It better not be another developer.

"Taro here. State your business."

"Hello, Mr. Taro. My name is Chelsea Summers, and I was calling about your ad I saw in the paper. Is the position still available?"

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**...**

A little exposition for some under-explored (in my opinion) characters and their relationship to each other.

Everyone else may see Taro as a crazy old man, but to his family, his daughter, he's more than that.

What's your opinion on Taro?

Crazy old man? Local weatherman? Legendary retired farmer? Something else?


	2. Vaughn

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**Chapter Two**

_[Vaughn POV]_

_The first time I met her I wasn't impressed. _

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Mirabelle had insisted I head up the road to meet the new farmer — shooed me out of the shop the second the chores were done. I walked up the path, dirt soon fading away to grasses, weeds, and wild plants. How long had it been since this path was last clear? I'd never known it, and I'd worked around the island for three years.

It took longer than I remembered to wade the mile up the hill through the grass; though I could count the number of times I'd come this way on one hand. Several times I had to stop and untangle my boots. As I neared the top, the sound of pounding reached my ears. It was steady and dull for a few seconds before stopping and then starting again. The farmer must be hammering away fixing something. What exactly was anyone's guess with all the repairs the place needed.

The old rusted gates stood open, dangling precariously from their hinges. They hadn't kept anything in or out of the farm for a long time. Tilting my hat back, I gazed around the area I could see. Everything was just as rundown as I recalled from previous visits, but there were a few changes. A small plot of field looked to be cleared, and it seemed a trail had been trampled down in the long grass from the field to the farmhouse.

"Ouch!"

My head jerked towards the roof of the farmhouse where the distinctly feminine shout had come from. Mirabelle hadn't informed me the new farmer was a woman, but there she was on the roof, gripping a hand that had no doubt been smashed by the hammer I'd been hearing.

Pulling down on the brim of my hat I sighed. Might as well get this over with. It's all pointless anyways — there's no way she'll last out the month, and the farm will go back to how it's been. Trudging up closer to the house, I called out, "Hullo, the house!"

"Just a second!" her voice called back. I listened to some shuffling before her head popped over the edge of the roof. "Hi there, I'll be right down."

"No need." My voice stopped her in her tracks. "I just came to introduce myself. Name's Vaughn Callahan. I'm the animal dealer round these parts. You ever reach the point of owning livestock you'll go through me. I'm here Wednesdays and Thursdays."

"Vaughn?" The woman readjusted herself so she was sitting with her legs over the edge. It wasn't my fault if the idiot fell off. "I think Ms. Mirabelle mentioned you when I met her." I held back a snort. Miss? Well, wasn't she a polite one. Tilting her head to the side she smiled down at me, the hair not secured back by her bandana falling in her face. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callahan. I'm Chelsea. It may take a little bit to get there, but I look forward to working with you."

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see beneath the brim of my hat. "Just Vaughn is fine. I'm leaving now." It would take me awhile to make it back to town. This entire trip was stupid.

"Oh… alright. Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Vaughn." I didn't bother acknowledging her as I walked away. Probably won't be seeing her again. Just like all the other would-be ranchers. By the time I reached the gates the sound of hammering had resumed.

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The bell to the animal shop tinkled as I entered, keen on the idea of heading up to my room to nap the afternoon away.

"Vaughn, is that you?" Or not. I'd already done all the chores involving the animals until evening. What did Mirabelle want? Unlike the other places I worked, Sunshine Islands had so little for me to do it was more like having an extra two days off a week.

"It's me."

"Oh good, did you meet Chelsea?" Mirabelle came out from the back, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Yeah." If this was all she wanted, I was going upstairs.

"And?"

I raise a quiet eyebrow at her. And what? Mirabelle let out a loud sigh. "Did you like her? What did you think? Does she need any help? You know I wouldn't have minded if you stayed to help her for awhile."

"She got herself into that mess, she can get herself out. More likely she'll quit." I pulled my hat down lower. I wasn't about to waste my time helping an idiot on a fool's errand; especially not for free.

"Vaughn!" I'd known Mirabelle long enough to know that she wasn't angry at me, just exasperated. I'd heard stories from Julia of what happened when she actually got mad, and it didn't sound like something I wanted to experience in person.

"It's the truth." I head for the stairs.

"Chelsea seems like a really nice girl, Vaughn. You shouldn't write her off before you get to know her." I snorted. More like the island was so desperate that anyone would do. The last few 'ranchers' had been 'tough' guys and they'd all run with their tails between their legs giving various excuses from what I'd heard.

"She won't last long enough for anyone to get to know her. That farm is a lost cause." I shut the door behind me before Mirabelle could respond. I hate talking about pointless things. Kicking my boots off I settle down on top of the bed, placing my hat on the corner post of the headboard.

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When I woke up it was to the sound of Julia knocking on the door telling me dinner was ready. Getting up with a groan I put my hat and boots back on before trudging down to the dining room. The smell of food made my mouth water the entire way there. Julia's cooking was a lost cause, but Mirabelle had some of the best home cooking I'd ever tasted.

"Mom says you met Chelsea today." I gave a quiet grunt as I took a seat at the table. Is that girl the only thing anyone was going to talk about today? It's not any better than hearing about Julia's boyfriend, that nervous pink haired kid who does the deliveries. "I've only talked to her once since she got here last week, but she seems really sweet."

I filled my plate, ignoring Julia for the most part. "What was she doing when you got there?" Putting some gravy on my potatoes I shrugged. "Something on the roof." Not my business anyway.

"Oh dear," Mirabelle said as she dished up her own dinner. "I wonder if she found a leak in the roof after last night's rainstorm. She should have Gannon fix that rather than crawling around on the roof by herself."

Everything was still hot, but I ate quickly anyways. I'd rather be out doing the evening chores with the animals than sitting here listening to the women talk about the farmer. They seemed hopeful that this one would actually stick around, something about a contract. Rinsing off my plate I set it in the sink and headed out to the barn.

Mirabelle kept a few head of cattle and sheep around, and about three dozen chickens at any given time. Taking care of them was a quick task compared to the other places my work contracted out with. Without a rancher, there just wasn't the need for more, and Mirabelle didn't want the extra work — a lot of her profit came from the good breeding stock she had when other farmers and ranchers were looking to better their own stock lines. She also supplied limited farm goods to the local eateries.

Brushing all the animals down, I mucked out the stalls, put fresh feed in the troughs, milked the cows, and fed the chickens. An hour later it was all done. Not ready to head back into the shop I made myself comfortable on the top of a bale of hay, watching the cows lazily chew their cud.

This was the life. If I ever saved up enough and decided to settle down I'd find a remote ranch somewhere that could handle several dozen head and spend my days taking care of them. The nearest neighbor would be miles away.

Smiling at the thought, I tipped my hat back to gaze up at the evening's first stars.

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**...**

Vaughn is a member of the island, but he's also an outsider at the same time.

I think this gives him a unique perspective on the island's events and inhabitants, and it allows him to come to conclusions that no one else would.

Combined with his frankness, it makes for easily misunderstood social situations.

At least, that's how I see it.


	3. Chelsea

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**Chapter Three**

_[Chelsea POV]_

_For all that I have accomplished, very little has actually been done._

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_Hey Dad,_

_It's been a few weeks, and I'd love to tell you that I am now a farming pro, but that would be lying. This place has needed more work than I could even begin to imagine. My "farm field" is little more than an over glorified personal garden right now. And I might have pulled a few seedlings up thinking they were weeds… Whoops! I put them back in the ground after I realized what I'd done, but… yeah. _

Propping my head on my hand, I stared down at the letter, twirling my pen around lazily. The smell of dinner filled the air as the casserole I'd whipped up baked in the oven.

_I've been busy from sunup to sundown every day. All those handyman lessons you gave me over the years are really useful. After the first rainstorm a couple weeks back I fixed several leaks in the roof, and I rewired part of the kitchen with help from a book. You can't smell it, but the proof is in the oven. I made mom's famous seven-veggie casserole tonight, and I'm writing this while I wait for it to finish cooking._

_My new neighbors have offered to help, but I don't want to impose on them too much, and it's really satisfying to use things after I fix them myself. Is this how you felt about your old motorbikes and that first little apartment you and mom lived in that you always tell stories about?_

_Mom would have loved it here. Just the other night I climbed up on the roof to watch the sunset and the moon and stars come out. There are so many stars here. It's unbelievable. It's even better than that time we all went camping. Though, it can get a bit lonely sometimes._

A frown tugged at my lips. Should I really include that last bit? I don't want Dad to worry more than he already is. Why didn't I write this in pencil so I could erase that? Oh well. Tapping the pen to my lip a few times, I put it back to the paper.

_I've noticed a few cats around the farm, but they're all too skittish to let me get close to them. A pet does sound kind of nice though, to keep me company. Maybe a dog. Or two. There's plenty of room for them to run around out here after all. I could even train them to help with livestock when I get to that point, but that will be awhile._

_I have looked into getting a horse though, once I can get the stable repaired. It would make the trip into town easier, and Ms. Mirabelle who runs the animal shop was telling me I could use saddle bags and such to help carry supplies home. In theory, it sounds great, but I haven't been on a horse since I was a little girl at the fair when you put me on that miniature pony. I'd definitely need to find someone to teach me how to ride and take care of a horse before I'd ever actually get one. _

_If importing gas wasn't so expensive, maybe I'd think about getting myself a motorbike since you taught me my way around them. But, the only vehicle on the island is an old orange high boy truck that Taro's family owns. Since they manage all the shipping for the island, they use it to deliver large or overly heavy things. It's how we got all my furniture and things up to the farm._

Startling at the high pitched ringing of the kitchen timer, I dropped my pen. Bending down, I picked the pen up off the floor before turning the timer off and rescuing the casserole from the oven. Placing it on the stove top to cool off for a few minutes, I grabbed a plate and dished up a portion.

Setting it down next to the letter I was writing, I picked my pen back up.

_There really isn't much more to say that the pictures I'm including can't say better. It's been weeks of cleaning up and repairing, and there's still a lot to go. Once I've got the farm more under control I'll get around to exploring more of the island so I can tell you about that. Then, when you come visit this summer I can give you the grand tour._

_Dinner's done, so I'm going to wrap this up. Take care of yourself Dad, and don't overdo it at work. I know this is your busy season. Write back soon. _

_Love,_

_Chelsea_

Folding up the letter, I slid it into an envelope I'd already addressed and filled with pictures I'd taken of the farm. Tomorrow I could take it into town to Chen's Market and then he could send it out with all the rest of the mail. It was time to pick up more supplies anyways.

It was quiet as I ate my dinner. So different from the city where the sounds of people and vehicles filled the air until late into the night. Sometimes it was nice, and other times, like now, the silence was stifling.

Putting my plate in the sick and setting the water to fill it so I could wash the dishes, I walked over to the record player I'd brought with me. Flicking through the records I picked out one of my Dad's favorites and put it on.

Humming along to Frank Sinatra, I washed up and swept the floor clean, dreaming of the future days to come.

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**...**

A little exposition into the farm's progress, and some subtle clues about the town.

A short chapter, but I just felt Chelsea doesn't have much to say at this point. All her focus right now is on the farm, not socializing.

I love the use of letters in HM games. You can expect her dad will write back at some point.


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